The Rising Sun
by lil'hawkeye3
Summary: Ilvermorny isn't the only magical school in North America. What better way is there for Hogwarts to prepare for the TriWizard Tournament than by hosting an international student as a trial run? Sometimes the lone pawn can upset the chess game, and Marie Khruv from Laveau Academy intends to do just that.
1. Chapter 1

**This idea stems from an in depth discussion on how big the magical world may really be outside of when the plot needs it. This takes place at the start of Prisoner of Azkaban.**

* * *

The moment Harry and his friends fell sideways through the pillar into Platform 9 ¾, he immediately noticed the lone figure standing at the edge of the tracks.

It wasn't like the individual— no, _girl,_ Harry realized— was trying to fit in amongst the sea of magicals being ushered onto the scarlet train by bustling parents; in fact, she seemed to be very glad of the fact that many curious stares were sent her way. The smirk that played on her tan face was evidence of this.

Harry wondered what reason she would have for being there, as the absence of a trunk was easy to see. She did have a staff, though, and her chin rested easily on it as she held in front of her body. Kinky, dark hair hung loosely down her back, and though there was a streak of white within her locks, Harry had no clue what it could be from.

But perhaps the most peculiar thing, at least to the third year, was that she was alone. Even other students orphaned by the war had at least one person present on the platform every September. He felt lucky to have gained this as well, since Mrs. Weasley had seen him off each year now, and she was beginning to fall into a guardian role in his life. The girl seemed perfectly content with her state though, so he shrugged it off.

He wasn't the only one to have noticed her. Although most of the adults didn't bother to give her a second glance, several groups of girls (ones that Hermione had informed him were the centers of much gossip that circulated in the castle) openly whispered and pointed. She raised an eyebrow when one particular gaggle caught her eye, and Harry was pretty sure that the gesture had been out of amusement. But why would someone react _positively_ to being whispered about and pointed at?

"Harry!" a familiar voice called. He blinked rapidly and turned to find Hermione beckoning him from the train entrance closest to him. Several younger heads turned at the sound of the iconic name called, but none approached him, something he was thankful for. "Hurry up and get on before the train leaves you!"

With help from the brunette, they lifted his trunk onto the steam engine just as it blew its horn and began to move forward out of the station. "Sorry," he apologized as soon as they were safely on, pushing his glasses farther up his nose at the same time. "I got distracted."

Ron snorted as they made their way down the corridor. "Finally discovered what girls are, yeah?"

Hermione huffed, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face. "Don't be rude, Ron."

Harry smiled, only slightly annoyed at Ron. Although their constant back-and-forth would become annoying in a few weeks, he had missed it while in his Privet Drive prison. He followed his friends as they searched for an empty compartment in, but all were full except for the very last one. There was a single person in the one they settled for, but they didn't have many other options.

The strange thing about this occupant was that they were an adult. Harry hadn't even known graduated wizards were allowed on the Express, with the exception of the witch who pushed the sweets trolley. This man, however, looked far less professional than the old woman did; his robes were drab and worn, and he appeared to have forgone shaving for several days. He couldn't be older than thirty-five, but his unkempt, exhausted look and hair peppered with gray strands added at least ten years.

"Who d'you reckon this bloke is?" Ron whispered, trying not to wake the man. The three of them levitated their trunks onto the racks above and sat on the seats the farthest from the window, which the man was leaning against as he slept.

As always, Hermione had an answer. "Professor R. J. Lupin," she informed them. "And before you ask, Ron," she held up her hand, stopping the redhead from speaking, "it says so on his trunk."

Harry's eyes flitted up to the object in question, where the aforementioned name was in fact stamped onto its side.

"Suppose he'll be teaching Defense, then," Ron muttered, glaring at the floor instead of Hermione so he didn't accidentally incur her wrath. Shaking his head, he turned towards Harry. "So, what'd you want to tell us about, mate?"

Harry sighed, knowing what reactions he was about to receive. "Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban to kill me," he released in a single breath.

After a moment of silence, Ron laughed incredulously. "Of course he did! Another madman set to off the great Harry Potter!"

Hermione gasped. "Ronald!"

"No, no. I've got a point. Don't you see a pattern here? Harry's a magnet for these crazy blokes."

Harry's emerald eyes hardened angrily. Sure, he understood where Ron was coming from, but that didn't mean he had to like it. He stood abruptly and stepped back into the empty corridor. "I'm going to take a walk," he stated curtly before shutting the door, leaving no room for argument. As he moved into the next car, he heard Ron attempting to explain himself, but oddly enough, there was no response from Hermione Granger.

Because he was so focused on what was behind him, he wasn't prepared to find someone walking his direction and crashed into the person, sending them both sprawling to the floor. Both wizards began to mumble out an apology, but it was promptly cut off as they looked up and realized who the other person was on the ground across from them.

Of all the people Harry could have run into on the Hogwarts Express, it had to be the blonde brat of Slytherin, Draco Malfoy. _Great._

"Malfoy," Harry said as he stood up, brushing his pants off. Malfoy's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Potter. Fancy seeing you here." The other boy's gray eyes flashed challengingly.

The Gryffindor laughed emotionlessly. "You do realize that all students have to take the train, right?"

Malfoy smirked. "Really? That's funny, because I don't remember you on here last year."

Harry unconsciously moved his hand towards his wand. "Well, why don't you ask your dear old daddy about that?"

Malfoy flushed. "At least I _have_ a…" he began, only to trail off nervously as the crackling sound of ice floated through the train car. Their breath condensed into small pale clouds, and the lights flickered weakly a few times before popping out one by one as the train slowed to a halt. A low, rattling moan came from the other side of the door, and with it, the startling chill of hopelessness.

The two shared a look before dashing down the hall and into the compartment the farthest away from the unknown source of coldness. Malfoy collapsed into one of the seats as Harry closed the door and locked it, then flopped down into the seat opposite of him.. Their anxious panting filled the space they now occupied.

"What _was_ that?" Malfoy gasped.

"Saint Nick?" Harry coughed sarcastically.

"Nope," a third voice added quite cheerfully. "That was a dementor."

Harry and Malfoy both jumped as they turned to find a girl sitting calmly next to Harry. Her right foot was on the seat, her leg pulled up to her chest, while the other dangled.. Her black hair was now braided over her left shoulder, and the wizards could see a feather weaved into the hairstyle as well. She was dressed simply in a white, long-sleeved blouse and a pair of black slacks, and although she was currently barefoot, Harry saw a pair of combat boots resting under the window. When he noticed the long, wooden object that rested against the left side of her body, Harry tensed in recognition.

"Hey, you were the girl from the platform earlier!" he exclaimed. Malfoy looked at him like he had lost his mind.

"Potter, there were dozens of girls on the platform. You're going to have to be more specific."

"Oh shut it, Malfoy."

They quieted suddenly as the two third-years noticed how cold the room had become. The rattling, groaning sound from before was amplified, and a dark shadow appeared through the frost covered doorway. Fear filled eyes stared at the door's handle as it twisted open, wishing that some sort of force could have counteracted the motion.

The mysterious girl sighed. "How do you Brits say it?" she asked herself as she picked up the staff. "Ah, that's right. _Expecto Patronum!_ " she firmly called, tapping her staff against the ground. The boys' expressions changed from ones of terror to ones of surprise as a silver aura rolled out from the contact and coasted like an ocean wave across the room. When it hit the black-hooded demon that had been seeking entrance, the creature drifted back the way it came with a grating screech, taking the raw winter chill with it.

The lights flickered back on and with a jolt, the train began to chug once again.

"Well, I guess we found something that'll get you two to stop bickering," the tan witch laughed.

Harry had no idea what he was supposed to think after what had just occurred. For the first time in his life, he was thankful that Malfoy tended to have a quick response.

"Who do you think you are?" he snapped. From the shaking of the pale boy's hands, Harry assumed his current mood was a side effect from the creature before.

The girl didn't bat an eye at being addressed in such a tone. "It doesn't matter who I am. No matter the answer, I still saved you from that thing." She tipped her head towards the door. "Dreadful creatures, dementors. Not sure if everyone in that prison of yours deserves them."

The cogs in his head began to turn. "'That prison'... you mean Azkaban." She nodded. "Okay, well thanks for sending it away but could you please tell us who you are and where you came from?" _Other than America,_ he added silently, because her accent made it kind of obvious.

"And ruin the surprise?" Her gaze flicked between both of the wizards, and they knew that she saw them reaching for their wands. "Only if I get something in return."

He and Malfoy glanced at each other.

"Oh, come on!" she pressed when neither responded. "I doubt it's the first time you've agreed to a deal like this before."

Malfoy surprised Harry by replying. "A question for a question."

"Done." She brought her right leg off of the seat and stretched like a cat, arching her back and reaching her legs as far out as she could. "You gonna start?"

"Er… what's your name?" Harry felt that starting with the basics would be simplest. Besides, Malfoy might at least have a chance of knowing if she was a threat. Besides, then he'd at least know what to call her.

"It's Marie." Marie laced her fingers together and placed them in her lap, turning back towards the boys. "I already know who the two of you are, of course, seeing as you addressed each other by name. So..." —she leaned forward conspiratorially— "What's your favorite color?"

Harry only realized that his mouth had dropped open when Malfoy lightly kicked his shin and hissed, "Potter!"

"Um, it's green," he finally replied.

Malfoy smirked. "Really, Potter? Green?"

"The color of my mom's eyes, you git, not because it's a Slytherin color!"

"Whatever," Malfoy muttered. "Mine's royal blue. Where are you from?"

Marie smiled, like she had been expecting the question and they'd fallen right into her trap. "I'm from America, can't you tell?" She winked. "Now, who's your favorite person in the whole world?" Her tone made it sound like their answers were just as important as the meaning of life.

Really, Harry had no idea what to make of this conversation. He didn't really want to say anything in front of Malfoy that could be used against him, but at the same time he thought that being honest would make Marie to answer honestly as well. So when he replied saying, "I honestly don't know," it was the truth. An hour ago, he would've said Ron, but now? Now, he wasn't so sure anymore. "I think Hermione, though. She's like the sister I never had."

Confession finished, he looked at Malfoy expectantly. The blonde slightly smiled, his eyes focusing out the window as he appeared to be lost in memories. "My favorite person is probably my mother. Whenever I need advice, she's always there."

As soon as he finished, he seemed to realize what he had just said and glared daggers at the girl who had somehow made him want to answer. "Potter, say something," he commanded.

"Er… what year are you? In school?"

She scratched her head. "We don't start at the same time as you do at Hogwarts. I think it's been seven years?"

"Seven?! We only have seven years total!"

Malfoy shrugged. "You _can_ take three extra years for a Mastery in a subject"—Harry's eyebrows raised; with Hermione as his best friend, how had he not heard of this earlier?—"but that's mainly a pureblood option."

Ah, that would explain it.

Marie shook her head, indicating they were getting off subject. "Alright, final question." Somehow, Harry felt it was going to be the death of him. "Why do you two pretend to hate each other? We've been in here talking and you're getting along just fine, so what's with the act?"

Both wizards reeled back as if they had been slapped. They began to speak loudly over each other, giving various reasons as to why she was wrong, why the other was so unbearable and awful, and that they _definitely_ were not acting, thank you very much!

Unsurprisingly, Malfoy was the first one to give her a real response. "I can't be friends with Potter! My father has a reputation, and I am required to uphold it!" he shouted, effectively getting Harry to shut up. The gray-eyed boy glanced at him before training his eyes on the ceiling. After a few long moments, he mumbled, "My father is not a caring person."

The Potter heir started to see how much he actually did have in common with Draco Malfoy. He turned his bright eyes on the other wizard. "I know how you feel."

"The Boy Who Lived can't possibly understand," Malfoy scoffed tiredly.

"Oh, really? My aunt and uncle forced me to live in a cupboard until I turned eleven."

Their gazes met, and the two realized that they had found another person who understood. Harry ran his left hand through his unruly hair and laughed nervously while holding out his right. "I'm Harry; it's nice to meet you."

Malfoy gave him a mixture of his signature smirk and a genuine smile. He took the offered hand and shook it. "Draco; it's nice to meet you too."

Marie clapped her hands in excitement, reminding them that she was there and causing them to fidget awkwardly and stare at their shoes. As bad as it sounded, they had truly forgotten that she was in the compartment with them.

"Wow, guys," Marie said. "I can truly say that I wasn't expecting _that_ to happen."

Harry turned to face Marie. "Please don't tell anyone about any of this?" he pleaded. He _really_ didn't want news of his home life gracing the Daily Prophet's front pages, and while Marie seemed nice, he hadn't really gotten a good grasp on her character yet.

"Don't worry," the girl reassured him, twirling the end of her braid. "Your secrets are safe with me."

There was silence for a few long moments before Draco cleared his throat. "Pot— Harry?" Draco said, then gestured towards his clothes. Harry looked down, saw he was still wearing his muggle outfit, and sighed.

"I have to go change," he unnecessarily announced to the other two. Standing and exiting the compartment, he stopped as a query popped into his head. "Hey Marie? Why'd you want to ask us questions anyways?"

She smiled sheepishly, embarrassed. "Well, I wanted to take your mind off of the dementor's effect, but I didn't have any chocolate," she admitted.

"Er— right, then." _What could_ chocolate _possibly have to do with anything?_

He pondered over this on his way back to the compartment where his two friends, the new professor, and his luggage were.

As soon as he opened the door, he was greeted by Ron, who was currently in the process of demolishing a sandwich. "Hey, mate, where've you been?" Ron asked through a particularly large mouthful. He was already dressed in his hand-me down robes, which would've looked fine if he had bothered to care for his things. Or at the very least, tuck in his shirt.

Harry, grimacing at his friend's manners—or lack of them—gathered his robes from his trunk before bothering to reply. "Oh, I was just out making a few new friends. I'll see you in a bit, all right?" He nodded to Hermione and the Professor, who was being interrogated on what his first classes would entail, and left them behind to go change.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry was slowly losing his patience. The constant moans of complaint from Ron as they walked along the Hogsmeade train station platform in the icy rain had grown old fast. The youngest male Weasley had been pestering him on his whereabouts during the ride, and when Harry didn't reply to any of his questions, it only made him angry.

"Are you kiddin' me?" he furiously stated in an undertone so no one would take notice to the conversation. "After all we've been through, you won't tell me who you were meeting with?" It was hard to take him seriously as the rain had made his normally red hair appear brown and stick against his forehead.

"I don't have to tell you everything that happens in my life, Ron!" Harry finally snapped, pushing the boy slightly for good measure. He hadn't expected to do that and immediately regretted the action, but what was done couldn't be changed. The boy with the lightning scar sighed in frustration at both himself and his roommate, whose figure was quickly melting into the throngs of chattering students making their way to the carriages that ferried them to the castle.

The raven haired Gryffindor trudged along with the masses, looking to his right when he felt someone tug on his sleeve. Hermione gave him a small smile and looped her arm through the crook of his elbow. He was grateful that she didn't fill the silence between them with words.

As they walked towards the line of black carriages, Potter did his best to watch everything at once since this would be his first time riding them to the school. The previous year had been spent in the infamous flying light blue Ford Anglia. Now that he dwelled on it, even though the event had seemed incredible at the time, he knew he was slightly upset over missing the traditional first ride up on the carriages and seeing the sorting of the first years.

He didn't understand what people meant when they talked about the carriages being pulled by invisible horses or that magic drove them along their path. There were clearly horses, or at least horse-like creatures, harnessed to them. Even though their skeletons seemed to stick out of the gray leathery skin that encased them, Harry had a feeling the creatures were incredibly strong.

Just as he was about to ask Hermione what they were, a flash of blonde caught his attention against the stormy dreariness of the day. Next to one of the horses was a girl, who he assumed to be a second year only because he was certain she hadn't ever been in one of his classes and couldn't be older than him. The girl seemed to be at complete ease with the creature, and it seemed to enjoy being pet by her.

When a figure approached the girl, Harry knew he wasn't the only one who had noticed the interaction. He wasn't surprised, once he saw the staff the person carried, that Marie was the figure either. If anyone was to know about such a creature, it would be her. He observed the American as she said something to the blonde and reached out to stroke the horse's nose.

"Harry," Hermione jolted him back to his current location. She pointed to where Neville was beckoning them from the entrance of one of the carriages. The two of them dashed the remainder of the way, their feet splashing in the mud on the ground before they clambered into the vehicle to sit next to their friend. "Hello, Neville! How was your vacation?" If anyone else had asked, it would've been out of forced politeness, but Harry knew she genuinely liked and respected the budding herbologist.

Neville nervously smiled. "Grandmother and I spent a month in France while she caught up with some old friends and formed some international alliances." He shrugged. "I guess the Ministry has something in the works long term. I met a veela though; she was nice enough once you got past her aura."

Hermione's eyes lit up in excitement; both boys shared a knowing look. "I was in France as well! One of the books I got in Dijon spoke of a large clan of veela that have attended Beauxbatons for generations." She leaned forward and opened her mouth to continue her spiel, but Harry accidentally cut her off.

"Beauxbatons?"

While Hermione sighed, Neville chuckled at his expense. "It's a magical school in France, Harry," he said. "They're known to excel in charms."

"Huh," he said, leaning back in his seat to mull over this new information. He wasn't sure why he was still surprised over learning such things; of course there would be other wizarding schools in the world. Hogwarts certainly wasn't that diverse and its numbers had gradually been declining, something that would most likely not occur if it gathered pupils from more areas. "Do you know what the school in North America is called?"

"Ilvermorny," the witch immediately replied. "It's quite a bit younger than Hogwarts though."

Harry nodded, mostly to himself, and allowed his friends to carry on about their separate vacations in France without him. He was staring mindlessly out the window at the falling precipitation when a familiar chill began to creep its way into the carriage. Even after shrinking back from the glass, the unmistakable cloaked demons that had boarded the Express could be observed. In the back of his mind, the boy heard a ringing that reminded him awfully of a scream.

He was grateful that the dementor's chill didn't reach the castle.

After helping Hermione down the vehicle's steps like a gentleman, they trekked to the large double doors of Hogwarts. Harry could practically feel the joy rolling off of everyone over returning to what was their home nine months a year for at least seven years of their life. She led him and Neville through the swarm of students in the Entrance Hall, but the two males were forced to find seats in the Great Hall without her as Professor McGonagall had called out, "Ms. Granger! A word, if you will." They had shrugged it off as being something to do with her grades.

Neville had regarded Harry oddly when Draco gave them the barest of nods once he walked into the hall. "Is everything alright?"

Harry gave a slight laugh, as Neville's reaction was far different than anything Ron would've said. "Yeah, I think it is."

His friend must have been slightly telepathic and knew he didn't want to converse, because he gave Harry a small smile before prattling on about how he had begun to grow several mandrakes in his greenhouse (they had been a birthday present from his grandmother). Harry muttered noncommittal replies whenever the boy paused and let his emerald eyes scan the seated pupils of Hogwarts.

Oliver Wood was sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table closest to the Head Table, his arm slung around Alicia's shoulders as they laughed with Katie at something Angelina was gesturing about wildly. Ron was sitting between Seamus and Ginny at the other end, while Dean sketched something in the sketchbook he tried to conceal in his lap. Colin Creevey was doing his best to photograph it, only stopping when the older boy glared in his direction. Parvati Patil's voice was loud with excitement as she told the girls in her vicinity of the several suitors she had met with and their many gifts: "I won't have to buy another sari in my life!"

In comparison, he noticed that the next table seemed to be much more inclusive than his. It may have been stereotypical to say that the Hufflepuff house was like one big family, but sometimes they fit into the mold perfectly. A fourth year smacked his hand on the table, narrating a story as he did: "—crashed into the ground just like that! 'Course, mother wasn't pleased about me destroying the broom. 'Get your arse in here and sweep that mess up!' she says, and I tell her I can't because the broom is what caused the mess..." Laughter rippled up and down the benches on either side of the 'Puff table at the anecdote.

Even the Ravenclaw table was lively that night. The students were clumped in their usual cliques and for once, the majority spoke of something other than their studies. True, they may not have been quite as loud as the previous houses, but the fact that not one of them was buried nose-deep in a book showed that they were excited to be back at school and see the sorting.

It didn't surprise Harry that only a low murmur could be heard from the Slytherin table. They were never ones to make a scene— well, besides Draco. Instead, he could see many of them glance at both their fellow housemates or across the room towards someone else before whispering to their neighbor about their observation.

After having some recent insight into the lives of one in their rank, Harry better understood the need to keep your eyes open and mouth shut in the snake nest.

This was a skill Harry was glad to be practicing at the moment, because when his gaze landed on Marie where she was leaning against the back wall, he had to mentally restrain himself from calling her name. She appeared to be staring off into nothing, which he supposed was alright to do when one had no conversation to be a part of. Regardless of her mental presence, both her hands tightly clenched her staff.

"Harry," Neville whispered as the hall's doors swung wide to admit the year's group of starstruck first years, ready to be sorted. Several mouths were ajar while many of their gazes were stuck on the enchanted ceiling, which showed a clear night sky in contrast with the actual weather of the day. Once the group stopped in front of the head table, the room went dead silent.

Seeing as Professor McGonagall hadn't returned from her discussion with Hermione, Professor Flitwick stepped up to perform the task. He smiled kindly at the children before flicking his wand dramatically, summoning the Sorting Hat and its stool to its annual place in the spotlight from where it had been sitting in a corner behind the staff's table. A few quiet gasps echoed as the hat quivered and began to sing.

Harry hadn't heard the previous year's song (what with him and Ron flying to school in Mr. Weasley's enchanted car), but sitting through a good three minute poem by an old hat made him glad he had missed it. Just like his first year, it described each Founder and house, and informed that the Founders themselves had enchanted it, so of course its sortings were correct. For the first time, Harry wondered which Founder had given the Hat its sassy personality.

Professor Flitwick quietly chuckled at the hat's antics once it finished before levitating the scroll he held in his hand. "When I call your name, if you would please come sit on the stool and place the Sorting Hat on your head. Alvanez, Evan!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Baxter, Miles!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Byne, Jordan!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Calloway, Gaby!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry and Neville cheered along with the rest of their house as the girl hopped off the stool with a grin, placing the hat down before she ran to sit along the vacant section at the end of their table. Harry was glad to finally be included in the other part of the sorting ceremony. He knew how elated the girl felt, and couldn't help but smile as well.

He didn't know any of the names that were to be called, so he had been planning on allowing himself to think on possible meanings to the Hat's song. However, celebrating with the rest of his housemates whenever they received a new member became an enjoyable priority.

One of the things that struck him as a pair of twins, "Isaacs, Emma" and "Isaacs, Elise," joined the Gryffindor ranks was that this year's group of new students was far larger than any of the others currently at the school. There was an even forty in his grade, but the second years barely had thirty pupils. Against the newcomer's staggering number of forty-nine, they seemed small in comparison.

The doors to the hall were largely ignored when they opened while the hat placed "Reben, Benjamin" into Slytherin. Harry and Neville glanced over to see Hermione walk briskly up the other side of their table and slipped between two fourth years to sit across from them.

"Oh no," she sighed in disappointment. "I missed the sorting!"

Harry shook his head and pointed at the stool. "Not quite." Hermione was able to welcome the final Gryffindor to their lion family when "Waterson, Danielle" skipped over happily and hugged one of her friends before the hall finally settled down. Professor Flitwick used this time to move the Sorting Hat and its stool out of the way. All of them turned back towards the head table as Professor Dumbledore stood up and clapped his hands once in finality.

~"Welcome!" said Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast..."~

He paused, his face seeming to age an added fifty years. "I'm sure you've all noticed that Hogwarts is playing home to several of the guards of Azkaban while the Ministry searches for a recent escapee. I'd like to request that you keep your distance from the dementors. They are stationed at every exit to the grounds, therefore I will make things simple so there is no confusion: nobody is to leave the school without creatures do not take kindly to provocations; do not give them reason to harm you."

The white-haired man allowed a moment of silence to pass by before a calm smile spread across his features. "On to a happier note! It has been quite a while since Hogwarts last had the honor of hosting a foreign student among its own, which makes this year stand out against your past times spent here." Dumbledore raised a hand and beckoned, and Harry knew exactly who he was asking to join him up front.

Every set of eyes in the room was trained on Marie as she walked up the main aisle, Ravenclaws on her right and Hufflepuffs on her left. Her staff tapped the ground every few meters and she held her head high, keeping her sights set straight ahead on Dumbledore. Whispers broke out like a domino reaction the second she passed by, but they all died down once she stopped next to the Headmaster as they waited for something – anything– to happen.

Marie held her hand out to the wizard, and they shook hands. She nodded towards the seated teachers before the two faced the student body.

"I would like to introduce you all to Ms. Marie Khruv." The girl merely shifted her weight onto the staff in response to Dumbledore announcing her name.

 _Marie Khruv_ , Harry repeated in his head as he memorized her name.

"Ms. Khruv has joined us from the highly esteemed Laveau Academy in the United States of America, as a junior Ambassador of Magic, if you will." Marie nodded just enough to convey her agreement with his statement. "As such, she will be dividing her time here amongst each of the four houses, beginning with Slytherin, then Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and lastly Gryffindor. I expect you all to welcome her and treat her as we would any honored guest." There was a smattering of light applause that Harry joined in with; he shrugged when Neville looked at him curiously.

On the other hand, Hermione leaned across the table to speak to them while the girl walked calmly over to the Slytherin table. "I've never heard anything about a second school in North America!"

Harry chuckled slightly. "It's okay to not know everything, 'Mione." He turned back towards the head table after he saw Marie sit down next to Draco, who slightly raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn't outwardly question it.

Dumbledore waited until he had everyone's attention once more before continuing. "Finally, I would like to announce two staffing changes this year. First, the position for Defence Against the Dark Arts has been filled by my good friend Professor Lupin." The man wearily smiled as the students unenthusiastically clapped. Harry could hear Fred and George Weasley taking bets on how long the professor would last.

"Professor Snape doesn't look too happy," Neville gulped nervously. He was correct; Snape was glaring so viciously at Lupin that Harry was surprised he hadn't dropped dead.

The headmaster continued on as if nothing was amiss. "As for our second new teacher, I am delighted to announce that our own Rubeus Hagrid will be stepping in for Care of Magical Creatures as Professor Kettleburn has decided to retire along with his remaining limbs."

No one heard anything he had said after Hagrid's name, for the cheering in the room - especially at the Gryffindor table- had drowned him out. Hagrid was blushing close to the same shade of red as his wine. Harry now understood why they had been assigned biting books for the class. By the time he and the others had finished clapping, the large man was wiping his eyes on the tablecloth.

"I believe that is everything of importance," Dumbledore smiled. "Now dig in!" He clapped his hands and the empty plates and goblets were filled, thus beginning the feast.

It was several minutes before Hermione finally found her chance to cash on Harry's promise to explain where he had been on the train. "So?" She looked at him pointedly, ignoring Neville's glance of confusion. "What were you _really_ doing on the Express?"

Harry sighed and supposed he should be thankful for having to answer sooner rather than later. "I really did meet some people. Marie- the new girl- she saved Malfoy and me from one of the dementors. Cast some silver spell at it."

"Professor Lupin did the same," she replied. "He told me afterwards it was called the Patronus Charm, but we usually only learn it after our OWL exams…" She trailed off, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. "You're saying she already can perform it? She can't be any older than us!"

He shrugged. "Apparently Laveau Academy starts at primary school age. She's in her eighth year."

"That's the other thing: I've never heard of Laveau Academy before!"

"Well, I'd never heard of Beauxbatons before."

"Um, Harry?" Both of them focused on Neville as he set down his cup. "Did you say that she saved you _and_ Malfoy?" Hermione's eyes flashed at Harry.

 _How can I explain this so she doesn't get angry?_ "We've… come to an understanding." He was met with two disbelieving stares. "We have more in common than we realized, and we're giving each other a chance."

Neville and Hermione shared a look before returning to their food. "I see," the girl coolly stated.

"Please, I'm not asking either of you to magically become best mates with him. Just- don't immediately hex him, alright?"

"I'm good with that, but if he starts something… no promises." Harry knew Neville was trying to boost the mood, but at the same time was deadly serious. He was fine with that; his Gryffindor friends were more important to him than anything.

"Hermione?"

She didn't respond for several minutes, and by that time both boys assumed she was going to keep her thoughts to herself. "If he calls me anything other than 'Granger,' I'll hex him into next week."

"Er… works for me," Harry said. Neville shook his head and smiled at the anxious expression he'd been wearing.

The three were slightly startled to hear Dumbledore's voice clear the tables and release them back to their dormitories; more time had passed than they realized. Hermione made it known that she wanted to congratulate Hagrid on his new job, and as they walked up towards where he was seated Harry found two younger girls had joined their group.

"Hey Ginny," he nodded at the redhead, who blushed but grinned back. He was glad to see she had gotten over the majority of the crush she had on him, since now he could try and build a friendship with her. Harry held his hand out to her companion. "Sorry, I don't think we've met. I'm Harry." True, they hadn't met, but he did recognize her as the blonde who had pet the winged horses earlier.

She was a most peculiar individual. Behind her wispy hair she wore small radishes on dangling earrings that matched with one hanging on a chain around her neck. Several bangles wrapped around both of her wrists, and they chimed softly as she shook his hand. Her blue-gray eyes shone silvery, and reminded him greatly of the Patronus Charm he had recently been introduced to.

"Luna Lovegood," she said dreamily. "Hello, Harry Potter. I've heard much about you."

"We just wanted to hi to Hagrid," Ginny spoke up, nudging her friend slightly. Luna didn't seem phased by the action. "Figured you three were doing the same."

Harry sweeped one arm in front of himself and bowed just enough to make the gesture appear gentlemanly. Several giggles erupted from the girls before they curtsied in return and went to stand next to Hermione, who was standing in front of Hagrid. Him and Neville both kept their distance from the emotional exchange going on.

"-great man, that Dumbledore; came straight to me hut after Professor Kettleburn said he was leavin' and asked if I wanted the job…." He finally lost it and began sobbing into his napkin, at which time Professor McGonagall shooed the five of them away.

"Off to bed, the lot of you," she said while looking down at them through her glasses. The four Gryffindors joined their housemates as they left the hall, wishing Luna goodnight before she skipped towards the receding mass of Ravenclaws.

Neville and Harry fell behind Hermione and Ginny as they spoke excitedly about the second year courses. "What are you going to do about Ron?" the Longbottom heir asked in a hushed voice as they walked up the staircase.

Harry sighed, running his hand through his unruly hair. "I don't know. I don't want to hurt our friendship, but I don't want to make him think it's okay and have it happen again."

"Um… what exactly do you mean by 'it?'"

Harry thought quietly for a moment. "Mainly his thoughtless comments. He says things at times that only worsen the situation, and I haven't forgotten how he was the one who upset Hermione first year. I understand why he likes having attention," he added after a moment, "if I had that many siblings, I would too."

Neville was silent for a moment. "You should talk to him and tell him what you just told me," he advised. "Letting things boil over separately will only make this end badly."

This was one of those times Neville surprised him. Harry opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a sixth year. "The password is 'Fortuna Major.'"

"Oh no," Neville said dejectedly. "I can never remember these."

"Don't worry about it, Nev," Harry clapped him on the back reassuringly. "You've got me and Hermione for that." The two boys shared a smile and walked through the portrait hole and into the heart of the Gryffindor family.

* * *

 _Sorry for the long wait! Hope you all enjoy. The quotes between ~ mean the text is taken from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and is not mine._


	3. Chapter 3

"Of course Hagrid's teaching Care of Magical Creatures, the bloody book attacks people!" Seamus was leading the group of Gryffindors down to breakfast that morning- rather, Seamus and Dean were at the head of the pack of hungry students trooping down to the Great Hall. A few were annoyed by the slow pace the boys were setting for the rest of them, but none decided it was worth the effort to act on it.

Ron shrugged from where he was walking next to Harry and Neville. "Y'know, he's got a point. ' _The Monster Book of Monsters'_ is pretty self-explanatory as to who would've ever assigned it…" he trailed off, shoving his hands in his pockets as they walked down the staircase.

Neville shivered. "I might be more frightened of his class than of Snape's this year."

Harry chuckled slightly. "No, you're not." Ron and Neville joined in his laughter after recognizing he had been teasing. "Don't worry about it, Nev. How much can go wrong with all of us there to keep him focused?"

Ron clapped him on the shoulder. "Everything, mate." Harry turned and gave him a wry smile.

"Boys!" The three of them stopped as Hermione's voice sternly called for them, and they realized she was standing in front of them. "Watch where you're going!" They mumbled an apology and followed the girl into the hall and over to their table.

Harry immediately knew something was off by the low murmurs that circulated through the room. Looking at who was seated with his fellow lions, he understood why everyone was reacting in such a way.

Marie and Luna, the Ravenclaw from the night before, were both chatting away with Ginny at the Gryffindor table. Luna and Ginny seemed to be nonchalantly stealing from each other's plates, while Marie was playfully levitating their cups in turn by flicking her finger up and down. At first, Harry thought she was performing wandless magic, but then he saw her holding her staff across her lap and figured she was channeling magic from it. He and Hermione slid into the seats next to her while Neville sat next to Ginny on the opposite side of the table. The youngest Weasley slightly blushed at his presence, but Harry was glad to see that her reaction was still far less severe than before.

"Good morning!" Luna chirped cheerfully, scooping a heap of pudding into her bowl. "Ronald, aren't you going to sit down as well?"

Harry looked up and internally groaned as he too saw that the redhead was still standing. In fact, Ron was glaring suspiciously at the American girl, who seemed to not notice him.

"What're _they_ doing here?" He pointed at her. "Since when do snakes and claws join us?"

"She's not a 'snake,' Ron," Hermione sighed. "Stop making a scene and eat breakfast."

Ron didn't seem like he was going to budge. "She's an honorary snake, at least. Either way, they're both not in our house."

"Just shut up and start eating, Ron," Ginny groaned. Her brother glared at her but grudgingly sat next to Neville, who moved to make space for him. The next minute passed in relative silence, save for Luna's dreamy humming between mouthfuls of pudding.

Neville was the first to speak. "How was your first night here, Marie?"

Ginny smirked sarcastically. "Yeah, how is the snake pit? Did the little serpents try to bite?"

Harry watched curiously as Marie chuckled lightly from behind her goblet of orange juice. "I'm afraid their fangs couldn't break through my skin." She placed the cup down and tapped her fingers against its side. "But they're quite an interesting bunch." He almost missed her gaze flick towards the mentioned table, and though he caught the movement, Harry was unable to see who exactly she was looking at.

"Remind you of something?" He asked, genuinely curious. She seemed surprised that he had spoken up, but smiled after a moment.

"Ah, my cousin goes to Durmstrang. I have found that they are very alike to the Slytherins." Marie crossed her arms, resting them on the edge of the table. "Sometimes observing is more profitable than participating."

 _I should give that a try this year,_ Harry thought amusedly. _Maybe it'll be uneventful for a change._ Then again, the presence of dementors most likely fell under the "eventful" category for the average wizard.

Luna appeared to be more interested in the first part of the American's statement. "Ooh, I've heard that Durmstrang's grounds are host to many samodivas!" She sighed wistfully. "Daddy and I have always wanted to meet one. They're said to be quite beautiful."

Ginny, Harry and Neville shared a bewildered glance. "Samodivas?" Ginny questioned, her hand hovering above Luna's plate in a forgotten attempt to steal a strawberry.

The blonde nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yes. Woodland faeries, some call them. Many live in Eastern Europe." Hermione huffed quietly at this piece of information but said nothing, possibly saving the group from an argument.

"As long as they're nothing like those Cornish pixies from last year-" Neville shuddered in remembrance, "- then I'm good."

By the look on the rest third year's faces, it was plain to see that none of them would be explaining the story either. Their chatter dissolved into separate conversations, with Harry finding himself caught between Hermione and Marie as the British girl prodded the other for information on her homeland. To her dismay, many responses she received only gave her more things to ask about.

"I read that Ilvermorny was the only magical school in America."

Marie smirked, beginning to braid her hair. Harry wondered if it was a habit of hers whenever she spoke. "Don't believe everything you read."

"How come you don't use a wand?"

"That's a Western European custom," she shrugged. "To be honest, many students at Laveau use whatever their culture does."

Harry interjected, gesturing to her staff. "Which of your backgrounds uses a staff, then?"

The girl looked down, as if she had forgotten its existence. "Oh, my father is from Eastern Europe and went to Durmstrang." She pulled it out and rotated it vertically, allowing it to expand to its full size again. "Honestly, I haven't had this for very long. Mama wanted me to be well versed in several styles of magic."

Ginny whistled in admiration as she examined the staff from across the table. "You could really hurt someone with that. Not that I would," she added innocently, drawing laughs from them all. For some reason, the six of them became the main source of noise from the Gryffindor table in the span of a few seconds. Harry wasn't sure if he had imagined it or not until a dreadfully familiar voice addressed them.

"I do hope you're not planning to attack a fellow student, Miss Weasley," Professor Snape drawled from where he stood behind Luna, Ginny, and Neville in his infamous black robes. Harry could tell Neville was trembling in his seat; on the other hand, the young Ravenclaw paid the teacher's appearance no mind and instead continued to eat vanilla pudding.

"No, professor," Hermione spoke for all of them. Snape only looked at her for the barest of seconds before turning his permanent -in Harry's opinion- glare on Marie.

"Miss Khruv, I am aware it is your first day among us, but as you are currently a Slytherin, might I escort you back to your table?" The rest of the hall had gone quiet now, allowing the entire student body to hear the polite command.

Marie sighed and stood from her seat, putting her in a position that enabled more to hear her. "Professor, I familiarized myself with all of Hogwart's rules before entering this castle, and I regret to inform you that the only instances we are required to sit with our assigned houses are during the Welcoming and Closing feasts." Many heads turned towards the Ravenclaws, where several of the older students were nodding in agreement. "For the remainder of this breakfast period, at the very least, I will not be sitting at the table of whichever house I am assigned to presently." She bowed slightly in a sign of respect, which consequently triggered loud whispering from every house as speaking up against Snape was unheard of. The commotion only died down once Dumbledore rose to his feet and raised his hands, signalling for silence.

"Since it has been brought up, I feel as though I must set the record straight on this situation," he began, holding everyone's attention. "As Ms. Khruv eloquently explained, you are indeed free to sit with your peers at any table, barring the first and last meals of the year. I expect you all to be responsible with this privilege."

Harry and his friends cheered along with the majority of the school, while several Slytherins settled for clapping instead. He watched in amusement as Snape thrust a sheet of paper at Marie before stalking up towards the staff table and disappeared off through a door behind it. The other professors used this time to pass out the rest of the student's schedules, as many had forgotten about eating after what had occurred.

"Oh, we're starting our new subjects today!" Hermione exclaimed happily as she read over hers. "I can't wait for arithmancy."

Luna hummed in agreement. "It does seem more interesting than second year classes."

"Please, _everything_ seems more interesting than second year classes," Ginny complained.

"Wait," Marie asked, holding a hand up while the other continued to grasp her wooden staff. "You only begin to take electives your third year?"

Neville shrugged. "It's a fairly recent change; there used to be introductory electives for the first two years, but during the war… both budgets and class sizes shrank drastically." Everyone looked at him in shock. "What? Grandmother is on the school board and was adamant I learned these things." He defended.

"Well, it's just that we begin extra classes very early," the foreigner explained her earlier reaction. "We take a test that shows inherited talents- things like divination- or a natural proficiency in a particular subject. Later on, we have the option to enroll in further classes." She noticed the blank looks she was receiving and gave back a smile. "For example, I have a proficiency for certain charms and linguistics, so in addition to extra courses in those subjects, I chose to specialize in runes and arithmancy."

Harry grinned, nudging Hermione in the side. "Guess you'll have a study partner." She seemed delighted by this fact.

"It'll be difficult to fit in with my schedule, but a study group definitely sounds like a good idea," she replied. People had begun to trickle out to retrieve their books and find their first class, including Ginny and Luna, who promised to meet up with them later before leaving. "Marie, we have Arithmancy first so I can show you the way."

Marie stretched back, yawning. "Sorry, Hermione, but I've got Ancient Runes first. I think we'll be together afterwards for... Defense Against the Dark Arts?" She squinted questioningly at the class' name on her chart. "What, is this just combat spells?"

"If we have a decent teacher this year," Harry replied, shrugging. "There's a bit about protection from magical creatures as well." She hummed noncommittally and stood with the rest of them as they left the hall, with Hermione dashing off in the direction of her class. It was only in the entrance hall that Harry realized Ron was not with them; looking over his shoulder, he saw the boy conversing with Seamus and Dean as they exited.

"Harry!" Neville refocused his attention. "We have to go if we want to get to Divination on time," he explained to both him and Marie, who smiled and waved them off.

"Don't worry, I'm just waiting for someone. Now shoo! Don't want to be late," she teased. The boys grinned before racing up the stairs towards the Gryffindor tower.

* * *

Marie Khruv was having quite the culture shock.

It's not that she hadn't been expecting it, but more that she had no idea it could be worse than what she had been warned about. The amount of bigotry she had encountered in the span of 24 hours was astonishing; granted, it was a completely different type than she was used to back home. She would be the first to admit that the States had flaws, especially along the lines of race. Having experienced it firsthand for years, particularly in the no-maj world, Marie could tell that the issues in Magical Britain were essentially the same. Instead of a person's skin color though, it was focused more on one's ancestral bloodline.

From the whispers she had heard between Platform 9 ¾ and the Welcoming Feast, Marie figured that the Slytherin house was the most vocal on such beliefs. This was only fueled by the quiet discussions she overheard as she sat next to Draco Malfoy at dinner.

"Khruv sounds Eastern European; perhaps she's from a prominent family there?"

"She doesn't _look_ like a Mudblood-"

"A Mudblood definitely wouldn't have a staff like that…"

Marie couldn't help but let out a slight laugh after hearing the last comment, drawing the attention of several students seated around her. She raised an eyebrow in question, an unspoken dare to see if any of them were willing to ask what had caused her amusement. Shockingly, one did.

"Find something entertaining?" Draco said in an undertone so no one would hear.

She shrugged delightfully, placing her elbow on the table and propping her chin up with her hand. "Oh, just that I've seen a few first generation maj's with staffs." Only after being met with a blank stare from the blonde did she remember Britain used different terms. "Sorry, I think you call them 'muggle borns.'"

"Ah." Marie knew very well that Draco was probably used to using the term 'mudblood,' but she wasn't about to encourage it. Thankfully, he didn't push the subject and turned back to his meal, beginning a conversation with a brunette girl on his other side when she called his name.

"Ms. Khruv." The dark skinned boy opposite of her spoke softly, shaking her out of her thoughts. He continued once she looked up at him. "My mother had heard whispers from overseas, but I must admit, I was not quite sure the rumors were true until your appearance today."

"Your mother has some very reliable connections, Mr…"

"Blaise Zabini," he supplied with a miniscule smirk.

 _Hm, well that certainly explains how he knew._ Having hailed from a wealthy Italian family and being a Master in potions, Lady Zabini was well known in the international circle; this was marred though after the mysterious deaths of several (all) of her former husbands. Marie was aware of the suspicions surrounding the woman, and knew this was where she had to begin treading carefully. "Oh yes, my parents have spoken highly of your mother, especially when it comes to her skills with potions."

"It's such a pity that she is unable to tutor us in the subject during the school year," the blonde girl next to Blaise added in a monotone. "Potions would be much easier without the constant accidents many students manage to cause."

Marie grimaced. "I don't think I'll enjoy experiencing that firsthand."

"Trust me, you won't." She paused, tilting her head slightly. "You can sit with me, I'm sure we'll find some way to survive."

Draco sighed. "Daphne, there's no need to be so dramatic about it…"

Daphne narrowed her eyes at him. "How many times has someone's cauldron either melted, exploded, or spilled onto the floor?" Blaise snickered and Marie smiled as Draco looked away in defeat. "Did you have similar occurrences at your academy, Ms. Khruv?"

She shrugged, reaching up to toy with the feather in her hair. "Not that I ever heard of, but then again, I tried to stay as far away from the potion labs as possible." Met with curious stares, she elaborated. "I learned the hard way that spells don't mix well when cleaning cauldrons." To her surprise, a quiet ripple of laughter echoed from the Slytherins around her.

"That's why most detentions with Professor Snape are spent scrubbing them manually." Blaise appeared to be ready to say more, but Dumbledore chose that moment to stand up and speak to the masses. Marie wasn't given the chance to listen to the Headmaster's words due to Draco leaning over and speaking lowly into her ear.

"Court has been called. You're on trial."

He wasn't wrong. After exiting the Great Hall, Marie had walked with the house down into the lower levels of the castle. As they stood patiently while one of the older students spoke a password to a section of stone wall, she hoped she could get used to sleeping in the dungeons fairly quickly. The thought quickly disappeared once she stepped inside the largely emerald furnished room, as she soon found herself encircled by the majority of the house– although she did observe that the first years were herded to the far side of the common room as they were addressed by the prefects, while the few in her year who had been seated near her hovered at the rear of the crowd.

This was the confrontation she has been expecting. Marie couldn't help a smirk from slipping onto her face.

"What's so funny, Mudblood?" A boy about an inch taller than her sneered as he stepped forward from the front row of the crowd. _Ah, so there's the ringleader._

Marie laughed openly, shifting her weight slightly onto her staff. "Seriously? I thought the majority of you agreed that I wasn't a, as you say, 'mudblood.'" She made finger quotes in the air when saying the hateful name. "Not much of a leader if you don't even know what your followers are saying."

The boy's jaw visibly clenched as whispers and quiet laughter broke out amongst his housemates. She had scored a point against him and they both knew it. "Just because people believe something doesn't necessarily mean it's true," he hissed in an attempt to add doubt to the Slytherin's minds.

His reactions were exactly what she had planned for, though. "People believe Dumbledore's perfect in every way, but I think we can all agree to disagree with that statement." She smirked slightly as chuckles flitted through the air. "Or, how that "dark lord" of yours probably isn't dead." She was highly amused at the rate that the previous laughter turned into a flurry of whispers.

"How dare you!" The boy hissed, his shoulders tensing visibly. "You're an outsider and yet you come in here speaking of things you don't even understand!"

Mistake.

Several people stepped unnoticeably away from their housemate as she turned her full attention onto him. "Please. The rest of the world is _very_ aware of what happens on your island, and most find it to be a laughing-stock. Y'all are stuck in the Dark Ages with most of your ideas. Most of the other magical communities at least admit they have flaws. Yours? Not so much."

The brunet boy clenched his teeth, ready to spit an insult, but he was stopped by an auburn haired girl placing her hand on his upper arm. No one was blind to the unspoken warning that resided in her movement. The girl turned towards Marie, meeting her hazel gaze with piercing blue eyes. "I'm aware of the truth in your statements, but all the same, I do not think it is… productive to continue this line of conversation."

Marie did her best not to roll her eyes. She was beginning to miss the bluntness that most at Laveau shared; it was far easier to deal with than these not-so-hidden threats. Though, that was probably the reason for this conversation in the first place: this male wasn't as skilled in the art of subtlety. "Aren't you allowed to defend yourself at trial?"

"There the Mudblood goes again! Speaking down to her superiors." The accusation came from within the crowd, drawing some head-turns from others, but none towards the front even bothered to look. She tried not to laugh at how easy this was becoming. Apparently, some of these students were thicker than others.

"Seriously? How the hell is superiority a thing when it comes to someone's _blood?_ "

Silence.

If a pin had dropped, everyone would have heard it. Marie tried not to show amusement at the shocked faces that greeted her statement, especially not the ones that soon morphed into fury. Many of the older students held that anger, whereas the younger ones seemed more stunned that someone had said something many of them probably hadn't dared to contemplate. However entertaining their reactions were, she knew that they needed a sharp blow to back up the fact, but one they couldn't argue.

Surveying the nearest students around her, her gaze landed on the dark haired boy in front of her. "Are you a pureblood?" Marie asked, pointing at him. He sneered, but she took that as a confirmation. "Anyone here a half-blood?" She smiled slightly when the auburn girl next to him dipped her head in assent. "Good. Come here."

The girl willingly stepped forward, but unsurprisingly, the boy did not. He raised a hand to point his wand at her. "What right do you have to order me around?" The presence of the wand caused the students to actually step back this time, making it known that none would openly support him when they knew nothing about the newcomer. Marie sighed.

"Fine." She held her staff further out in front of her and tapped it against the floor, saying softly, " _Ekspilse."_ The male stared at his now empty hand in shock as his wand clattered against the ground, before crying out in surprise and pain as quick slicing movement of her staff caused a cut to appear on his palm, crimson blood immediately flowing from it.

Marie turned to look back towards the girl as she let out a quiet sound of understanding, and drew her own wand to create a gash on her own hand. She received a small smile from the girl with the staff as she did the same to herself. Both of them ignored the gasps that came from any of the younger members of their audience, as well as the muttered swears from their fellow demonstration "volunteer."

"Alright!" Marie said with a grin, confusing many as to what emotions she was really experiencing. "So he's a pureblood, she's a half-blood, and you don't know what I am," she summed up for them as the three stood in front of them all, blood beginning to drip from their hands and onto the stone floor. "Can you tell any difference between our blood?"

"Um…"

"That was rhetorical," she explained in open exasperation, glancing at the second-year who had spoken up but was now scarlet-faced. "Obviously, we all bleed red. You can't tell if someone's better or not based on their blood; you tell based on their _actions_." Her gaze turned to a hard glare as she looked back at the boy who had first spoken. "So tell me, what was that about you, in particular, being 'superior?'"

She stalked steadily towards her challenger until they were quite literally toe-to-toe. "I have dealt with insults due to my skin color and my language for thirteen years. Don't think that I'm about to let a bit of your petty supremacy get under my skin," she warned quietly, her voice traveling across the room in the dead silence. She could see the exact moment the boy's resolve broke, and a predatory smirk broke out on her face as she stepped back to let him escape.

As the boy who confronted her angrily stormed off, Marie stood a bit taller victoriously as some of the crowd dispersed, others remaining in clusters as the room broke out into hushed conversation. Her attention was redirected to the girl whose hand was still cut and easily healed her wound before tending to her own.

"I assume you had that all planned?" The girl asked her in a subdued voice.

Marie surveyed her curiously; she hadn't expected her to stick around. "Can't reveal too many 'secrets' in one day, Miss…?"

"Ella Wilkins, fourth year. And that's a wise idea; you might scare the skin off of some of these snakes if you give them too many shocks." With a quick thanks and nod of appreciation, the girl disappeared off to wherever her comrades were.

"Well!" Marie looked up to find an ebony-haired girl slow clapping as she approached, Daphne at her side with Blaise trailing reluctantly behind them. She noticed him throw up what she assumed to be a quick silencing ward around the group as they gathered. "That was quite the performance. Nicely done, you Yank." Marie and the girl stared each other down for a minute before cracking identical grins and snickering, even more so as they realized how confused Daphne seemed (but Blaise appeared to have understood by his good-natured eye roll).

"I must say, I wasn't expecting that!" Marie remarked, offering her hand. "I'm Marie Khruv."

The girl shook her hand with a smile. "Tracey Davis. And to be fair, none of us were expecting any of _that._ " She gestured at large, referring to the event that had just concluded.

The American shrugged. "I'd apologize, but it was too entertaining. Don't worry, Tory, I'll try to keep the shock-inducing situations down to three a week."

"Marie, her name is _Tracey,_ not 'Tory,'" Daphne interjected, although her words seemed to cover an underlying question. Marie left it to Tracey to explain.

"Daph, it's just a nickname for being British. 'Tories' were the British supporters in the American Revolution, and 'Yankees' were the American rebels." Tracey playfully linked arms with Marie. "I believe we have our own private joke, my dear Yank!"

Marie grinned back at her. "Tory, this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship." As Tracey led her in what she assumed to be the direction of the dorms, she bid a hasty good-night to Blaise, who nodded before walking off towards the chairs near the fireplace. She and Tracey snickered as they heard Daphne mumble her complaints about feeling 'left out.'

They walked down one of two corridors at the opposite side of the room, which had a sign on the inside wall labelling it for 'witches,' and followed it to the second door on the right. The Roman numeral "III" shone silver on the black door just under the names "Davis," "Greengrass" and "Khruv" as Daphne pushed it open.

"Don't worry about your stuff being taken," she said, leading the way in. "Only the three of us in this room can open it. Benefits of magic."

Marie shook her head, though not fully listening to her words. "Gotta love magic…" She was too busy staring at the underwater view that a window on the far wall displayed. Fish of all sizes and colors swam past, some of their scales gleaming in the warm light provided by the room. The girl looked back at her two roommates, her hand splayed against the window. "This is one of the best things I've ever seen!"

Tracey crossed her arms and sighed as she walked over to the four-poster bed nearest the window and plopped onto it. "Only _one_ of the best? I'm afraid that doesn't meet Slytherin standards. Oh…" She lay down on her back. "This one is yours, by the way." The girl giggled as Marie glared at her before sitting down in the space above her head.

"So no one else will be joining us?" She asked, tapping her staff against one of the posts. Daphne sighed in what sounded like relief from where she was leaning against the wall next to the door. She made sure to shut the door before answering.

"Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode are the two other girls in our house year. They're not entirely… pleasant, shall we say."

Her dark-haired friend rolled her eyes. "Daph: Pansy, at least, is a wretched, spoiled brat. And _ugh,_ 'Draco this' and 'Draco that' and 'Draco will you marry me and have thirteen babies?'" She fake gagged, causing the other two to laugh. "I throw up a bit every time I hear her whine his name."

Marie winced sympathetically. "I must say: not looking forward to that."

Tracey laughed once. "Who would?"

Daphne sat down on the end of her bed, crossing her legs and leaning back on her hands. "That's one reason I'm excited for Ancient Runes, Arithmancy and Magical Theory: Pansy definitely won't be in any. Speaking of which, what classes will you be taking, Marie?" She nodded her head towards Tracy. "I know Trace is taking the same as me."

The girl tapped her fingers against her staff. "Ah, well, I'll probably be in your theory class, but most likely not for runes or math… arithmancy, sorry." Marie glanced at the ceiling. "Suppose I should meet some older years during breakfast tomorrow, but that's too much effort." She grinned at Tracy's snicker.

"Oh, don't worry. Something tells me you'll do fine."


End file.
